The Doctor's Unexplained Possibilities
by Runa93
Summary: The title explains all. ON PERMANENT HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

"Doctor! Dr. Watson!"

The terrified cries from outside our sitting room jolted me out of the half slumber I had allowed myself to fall into. Hurriedly thrusting my notebook aside, I yanked open the door to find a terrified Colin standing there.

Colin is a relatively new addition to the Baker Street Irregulars. Unlike the others, he was brought up in a good family, but after the death of his mother and father of influenza the landlord turned him out onto the streets, and directly under the care of the Irregulars.

He is normally a soft spoken lad and rarely shows any emotion and I was surprised to find him in such a state.

"Whatever's happened, Colin? Why are you so-"

"You've gotto come now, Doctor!" The lad didn't wait for me to finish. He looked desperate. "It's Alfie!"

A cold hand closed around my throat. I gripped the shaking boy by both his shoulders. "What happened?" I demanded. "Has he been injured? Is he ill?"

Colin shook his head violently. "We don't know, doctor!" he sobbed, "He's just lying there, weak as anything. He won't eat, and he keeps coughing all day and –and…"

"Alright. Calm down." I got to my feet and went to retrieve my medical bag. "With luck, it'll only be a fever." It was December; and from the conditions I have seen of the streets, it's a wonder that they hadn't fallen ill sooner.

I hurriedly scribbled out a note to Holmes, and stuck it into his Persian Slipper. He could hardly fail to find it there. He was on a case with Lestrade and was expected back today.

"Come along now, Colin. Let's go."

I had been to the Irregular's den only once; when Holmes had entrusted them with some important papers. Though dark and gloomy, that little bunch of boys kept it neat and tidy; you could hardly find a pin out of place. It stood out like a beacon in its sordid neighborhood.

With a little difficulty, I entered through the small door and descended down to their home. The moment I stepped in, a circle of anxious faces surrounded me.

"Dr. Watson! Dr. Watson is 'ere!"

"Doctor, Alfie is real sick!"

"'E won't eat, I'm scared!"

"Hush now," I bent and gently put a hand on their heads. They all looked terrified. "Alfie is going to be fine, don't you worry. It's probably just a fever." I looked around. "Where's Wiggins?"

A boy detached itself from the rest and came forward. Wiggins looked a bit better off. He stood absolutely straight; jaw jutted out and looked more like a military general then anything else. I suppressed a smile.

"Wiggins, I want you to take over everything else here." I looked at the children's pale faces and felt a pang. "Get them to eat as well; you don't want to kill yourself worrying about Alfie. He won't like that."

Wiggins nodded slowly. "Righ', Doctor." Turning with a snap, he barked a couple of orders and, with the precision rivaling even Scotland Yard's, the room was soon clear. The sudden quiet disturbed me and I heard, very faintly, a soft cough.

Everyone stiffened. I got to my feet. "I'll see to him." I looked at Wiggins and gave a quiet nod. He nodded back, lips compressed tightly together.

Alfie was lying, thoroughly wrapped up in a threadbare blanket and my first action was to cover him with my overcoat. The movement jolted him awake.

"Doc…Tor?"

"Yes, boy, its me."I checked his temperature and let a curse escape me. It was high. Very high.

"How long has he been like this?" I asked Wiggins, who was standing at my side.

" 'esterday. We reckoned 'e got a cold but it ain't that." He looked worriedly at Alfie's little form. "Is 'e goin' to be fine?"

"He will be, given time and rest." I pulled out my medical bag and rummaged inside for my thermometer. "Wiggins, I'm going to stay here. I've left Holmes a note but you go and inform him anyway that I could be here the whole night. He worries about Alfie too."

Wiggins gave a nod and dashed away. The rest of the irregulars watched me, their faces pale and grave, reminding me…

I shook my head. No point thinking about the past now. Crossing my legs, I settled down next to Alfie.

This was going to be a long night.

**Well this was supposed to be an oneshot but didn't work out.** **I've borrowed Alfie with KCS's permission, don't worry. Don't be mad at me, ok, KCS? Alfie is gonna be ok.**

**Oh and I desperately need someone to help me out with my **_**Sister dear **_**fic(if anyone remembers it). I'm working on it…but getting kinda stuck. **


	2. Chapter 2

"You've got to drink, boy." I lifted the spoon. "Go on."

Alfie gave a faint groan and turned away. I caught a muffled whisper, "'on't 'ant to…" My heart clenched but I pushed forward. "You've got to, child." I tested his temperature. There was hardly any improvement.

"Isn't Wiggins back yet?" I asked Colin. He shook his head, his dark curls flopping over his liquid eyes, and then pushed forward a little bundle. I took it and noticed a small kitten peek out.

"Colin, what-"

"We saw it yesterday." Colin's whisper was inaudible. "Alfie wanted to keep it, but Wiggins said it wasn't ours so we couldn't. But if it isn't anyone's, and if we gave it to Alfie, he would…he would get better, right?" He looked at me, trembling slightly. "Wouldn't he?"

I did not know how to answer his innocent question. The memories of a group of children asking the same question, flashed through my mind.

_A desert bereft of man or beast…_

Not _now…_

_They trusted you, but you…_

Not NOW!!

"Doctor?" I looked up from my hands. Colin was looking at me. Many of the other Irregulars were peeking in through the doorway.

"Is…is something wrong?"

I felt my damp cheeks and shook my head.

"No, everything's fine." I looked around, partly to distract attention from myself. "Can I get some hot water?" 

Colin turned but the next moment he had reached out and touched my cheek; his finger's detecting my tears instantly.

"Alfie's going to be fine, Doctor." He gave me a nod. "Just you see. He's strong and-and-"

He stopped, looking tongue tied.

"And...?"

"And we've got _you_. So…even if you couldn't…couldn't save someone before, it-it won't happen now. I know that."

With that, the little Irregular bolted from the room, I staring after him dumbly.

How on earth…

_Children, _I imagined my mother saying, _they know all._

"Yes," I whispered. "They truly do."

(Holmes POV)

I looked at the note in my hand, frowning. Beside me, Lestrade watched me curiously.

_Holmes,_

_Alfie has taken ill and I have left with Colin to see to him. I may not be back before midnight._

_Watson_

"Alfie?"said Lestrade. "One of your little group of urchins, Mr. Holmes?"

I nodded, the frown deepening on my face, as I checked the letter again. Finally I put it down and got to my feet with a sigh.

"Its written by Watson, alright." I flipped the note to Lestrade, who caught it looking bewildered. Pulling on my coat, I prepared to go out.

"Where on earth are you going in this wind, Mr. Holmes?" He indicated the outside, where a fierce wind had risen. "Your not off to see the children, are you?"

"Of course, I am."

"In this weather?"

"In any weather. Their health and life is my responsibility."

To my surprise, I saw Lestrade pick up his coat too.

"I'm coming, as well."

I smiled warmly at him.

"Very well."

**To anybody whose getting confused with Watson's Past references don't worry everything will be explained soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Irregulars crowded around anxiously as I eased their comrade's head up gently. Alfie's temperature was still high, and each rattling breath he drew sent a barb through my heart.

"It's too dangerous for him to remain here," I murmured, as another fit of coughing shook his tiny frame. "But-"

Even without looking outside, I could tell that the wind had picked up. It wasn't safe to carry the boy through such weather. But if I didn't-

"Has Wiggins returned yet?"

"Not yet, 'octor."

I sighed with frustration and put a hand on Alfie's forehead. Still warm. This wasn't any good. If only-

"'Octor?" All of us turned toward the bed as Alfie's eyes opened, barely the fraction of an inch.

"Dr. Watson?"

"Yes, lad." I murmured gently, putting my hand atop his. "Its me."

He coughed again. "So 'ired…."

"I know, Alfie," I whispered, softly patting his hand "But you can't give in now. The worst is yet to come."

"Hurts…."

I felt a slight dampness trickle down my cheek, but angrily brushed it away. Looking at the pale, petrified faces around me, I said, "I need to distract him from his pain. He can't fight very well because of it. Can one of you talk to him, try to make him forget?"

A dozen eager voices quickly assented and soon Alfie was surrounded by his friends.

"Carefully! Don't squeeze in so much, you'll block out the air." I eased them back a little. "There, now."

I listened to the eager little stories told in scraps and pieces by his companions and felt a smile creep on my face. There could not be more beautiful scene then this, a little boy, surrounded by a dozen or more of his friends, talking and laughing, eager to draw him out of his illness.

As I turned around to pull my thermometer out of my medical bag, a felt a little tug on my arm. Colin looked up at me, his eyes wide.

"Doctor," his voice was a low tremble, "Alfie wants to sleep, but he-he-"

I understood immediately. The high fever must be preventing his sleep, the very thing he needed the most. I pursed my lips.

" Doctor, can you-can you-"

"I can't put him to sleep, Colin." I said gently, as the other Irregulars turned to look at me. "I don't know what effect such drugs might have on him."

"Not like that." Colin shook his head firmly. "The- other way."

"Other way?" I was mystified.

Colin went a little red. "That day, on Christmas Eve, well, Wiggins and I heard you…singing in your house…when Mr. Holmes wasn't there." He stopped, looking embarrassed. "You had a nice voice."

I went red immediately. My God, had he heard me?

"It was…nothing, Colin. A bit of Christmas cheer." God forbid Holmes ever find out.

Colin bit his lip and looked back at the rest of the silent group.

"Its just that….we were wondering if-"

A thought crossed my mind. Did he want me to-

"Please, doctor?" Colin put his hands on my knee and looked at me with pleading eyes. "He's really tired. And we want him to sleep."

I closed my eyes. It couldn't hurt, could it? One song.

"Alright, then. One song."

The children gathered eagerly around as I sat down beside Alfie who gently tilted his head to regard me.

"Here we go then." I murmured, then took a deep breath.

The song I sung was not an English one. It was one I had heard long ago, in the sands of Maiwand, drifting through the air, and it had remained in my heart and mind since then.

I do not know why I chose to sing this song. Suffice to say it was the first one which came to my lips. As the soft notes slowly floated away and died, I looked around to see the Irregulars watching me intently.

"It was a very pretty song, doctor." Whispered Colin.

I reached out and touched Alfie. His breathing was slow and only a slight bit shallow. He was asleep.

"Well done, my dear fellow."

I turned around to see Holmes enter the room, Lestrade behind him. At his heels, was Wiggins.

Holmes indicated Alfie, smiling softly. "Time we took him to Baker street, don't you agree, my boy?"


	4. Chapter 4

By the time we entered Baker Street, Alfie's breathing had become progressively shallower and shorter. Lestrade and I put him in Holmes bed as Holmes lit the candles around us. In the flickering glow, he looked even paler and worn then before.

"Well?"

Holmes question, though asked in a neutral tone, as he was wont, was tinged with the slightest degree of concern. Only I could tell how worried he really was.

"High fever." I said, checking the boy over, "The journey hasn't helped. His breathing is irregular. I don't like this."

"Is it serious?" Lestrade's question, barely a whisper, carried a wealth of meaning behind it.

"I depends," I said, tucking in the blankets, "on what you define as 'serious'."

Lestrade looked at me quizzically. Holmes said nothing.

"He has a high fever which would not be dangerous to any grown healthy men such as us," I said, "But, to a young boy, brought up in the streets, it can have devastating effects." I sighed. "This is going to be a long night, gentleman."

"He's going to be alright." Both Lestrade and I looked around to see Holmes set the last candle by Alfie's bedside. Even in the dim glow, I could see the uncharacteristically soft smile on his face. He nodded at me. "Won't he, Watson?"

I regarded the boy on Holmes's bed and nodded slightly.

"Yes. He'll be fine."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o  
Holmes had bundled me out of Alfie's sickroom saying that I look too exhausted to continue at the moment. Of course, he said all that in his brusque roundabout manner, while I hid a grin.

Lestrade sat with Alfie while Holmes and I sat in front of the fire, warming out the night's chill. I was rather dubious leaving Lestrade in care, but the Inspector 

assured me that he was more than up to the challenge. But I stayed in the sitting room, despite Holmes's remonstrance that I should go to bed.

"Watson?"

"Hmm?" I glanced at my companion. He appeared to be looking at the fire.

"At their den….the song that you were singing…."

I immediately blushed a fiery red. So he _had_ heard me!

"I-"I could not formulate an answer, "That is-"Thankfully Holmes saved me the necessity.

"That song you sung. It wasn't English."

I nodded, keeping my head bent. The fire crackled in the silence. Finally I spoke.

"It was Afghani."

I heard Holmes draw in a sharp breath, "Maiwand?"

I nodded silently. There seemed to be no other answer.

"You sang well."

My head snapped up and looked at Holmes incredulously. He was smiling. At my incredulous look, he tilted his head a little to the side.

"What's so shocking about it?"

I finally found my voice. "You _liked_ it?"

"Of course." He was looking at me quizzically. "It sounded very…tragic, though. What song was it?"

I looked into the fire, conjuring up memories of a time long past. "It was a song…sung by children."

"Children?"

I nodded. "Yes. Children waiting for their fathers to return home."

"_Sahib! Sahib!" The rag tag group of children gathered before me as I dismounted my horse. A small pool of blood lay around the fallen man, and I bent to inspect him. It was a head wound. Clearly the man I had shot from the distance._

"_Save him, Sahib! Unhe Baccha Lo! Sahib!"_

"I was separated from my group." I whispered, knowing that Holmes's eyes were on me. "I wandered for hours onto the end, until…." I took a deep breath and felt the touch of Holmes's fingers on my arm.

"Easy, Watson." He murmured. I smiled at him gratefully.

"I saw a man at a distance, and though that he was one of the Ghazis. At that time, I was…young. I have no excuse. So I fired at him."

"Did you…hit him?"

"Yes. On the shoulder." I gave a little shudder as I remembered the way the blood showered up and the sudden shocked look on his face. "I could have…killed him."

I felt Holmes's' fingers tighten on my arm. "But you didn't."

I gave a small smile. "Yes. On account of the children behind him."

_Ok once again the story is not going where it is supposed to go. I'm getting seriously annoyed now. It should have finished with this chapter already! Well, I guess one more chappie to go!_


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